


Three Different Perspectives on Hawkeye and the Black Widow

by SneakyHufflepuff



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint can be a little bit clueless, Diners, F/M, POV Third Person Plural, Swearing, junior agents steering clear, rom-com cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SneakyHufflepuff/pseuds/SneakyHufflepuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint messes up. Or did he? Three people's point of view on the Clintasha relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Different Perspectives on Hawkeye and the Black Widow

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful shenshen77 for betaing.

Riya Talwar rolled her shoulders as she walked down the hallway. She enjoyed her work, but after a ten hour shift she was more than ready to hit the sack. She turned the corridor and gasped. Standing outside Agent Romanoff’s room was Clint Barton, as naked as the day he was born.

“What the hell, Tasha?” He banged on the door with his fists, unconcerned with his nakedness. “Let me back in.”

“Go away, Clint!” The Black Widow shouted, opening the door for a brief moment to dump a pile of clothing on Clint. A split second later, she slammed it in his face.

 _Well that answers the ‘are they or aren’t they’ question_ thought Riya. Then _oh shit_ , she had just witnessed two of the most dangerous people at S.H.I.E.L.D. have a lovers’ spat. She backed away, using all of her training to stay silent and move smoothly. It was a testament to how distracted Barton was that he didn’t seem to notice.

***

Coulson paused outside the break room door, blending in with the wall so he could view the junior agents in their natural environment of coffee mugs and looming deadlines. He noted that the murmuring from inside was much more tense than usual.

“I’ve seen the Black Widow’s boyfriend naked. What if she takes my eye as punishment like a faerie or something?” Agent Talwar’s grip on her mug was so tight her knuckles were white.

“She and Bobbi are good friends, and Morse married the guy. You’ll be fine. Now tell me what it was like.” The junior agent opposite Agent Talwar, Leslie Yach, was a notorious gossip. She leaned avidly towards Talwar, intent on wringing every last detail from the traumatized agent.

“What?” Talwar stared fixedly at her mug, as if she were contemplating her future disembowelment. Knowing Agent Romanoff’s reputation among the general populace of S.H.I.E.L.D., Coulson wasn’t surprised.

“Hawkeye naked. Hmmm... naked Hawkeye has a ring to it. Maybe I should start a website.” Leslie rubbed her hands together and chuckled evilly.

Coulson wisely ghosted away from the room, choosing to go to Hawkeye’s quarters instead. He knocked on Clint’s door. After a brief moment of hesitation, it slid open.

“What happened?” Coulson entered the room, closing the door behind him. He wouldn’t put it past agent Yach to use her rudimentary espionage skills to learn more about the situation.

 “Don’t wanna talk about it.” Clint was stretched out on his bed, bouncing a ball against the far wall so it returned to his hand.

“You should apologize.” Coulson tried to project a fatherly air.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Clint took the role of a sullen teenager, scowling into the middle distance.

“Clint, she kicked you out of her room. You must have done something.”

Clint shrugged. “Women.”

Coulson could see that he wasn’t going to get anything from this approach. He withdrew, wondering what had happened that could separate a seemingly flawless team. He knew Clint had a disastrous history with personal relationships, but hoped that he’d be smart enough to keep on Natasha’s good side.

***

Fury looked up from a pile of paperwork as Hill reported to his office. He didn’t mince words. “I heard Hawkeye fucked up whatever he has going with Romanoff. I do not want to break up the most successful team S.H.I.E.L.D. has. Deal with it.”

Hill had already heard the rumors about the master assassins swirling around the ship. Of course, as one of Clint’s closest friends, she’d be assigned to deal with the problem. “On it, sir. Anything else?”

Fury looked at her levelly, single eye unblinking. “Tomorrow I want my agents to focus on their jobs, not soap opera. Fix it.”

“Yes, sir.” Hill’s hands twitched as she resisted the urge to salute. She nodded goodbye instead and went to find Clint. She swung by his room first, more in hope than expectation. Usually he found a high spot to brood. When the door to his room slid open she blinked in surprise. Clint was napping on his bed, earbuds from his MP3 player nestled in his ears, a dark shadow of stubble on his face.

“I’m taking you out to eat,” she announced.

Clint opened his eyes. “Go away.” Maria raised an eyebrow. “Go away, sir?” Clint tried.

Maria unplugged the headphones from his MP3, ignoring Clint’s sound of protest. She looked at the names scrolling across the screen critically. “More of that country crap? I’m going to have to take you clubbing with me again.”

Clint shuddered. “If I go out to eat with you, promise me you will never try to take me clubbing ever again.”

“Deal.” Hill said instantly. Dragging a whiny man through a club wasn’t her idea of a good time. “I’ll even take you to the greasy spoon diner you love so much.” She pushed Clint out the door, driving to the diner in silence as Clint snored in the passenger seat.

The two agents settled down to eat. Maria smiled widely as she looked at the stain covered menu offered to her by a bleach-blonde waitress. The greenest thing available was the key lime pie. “I’ll have the burger and fries. And the chocolate milkshake.” While Maria had heard of diets, she didn’t believe in them. It had been a point of bonding between her and Clint when they had both been junior agents.

“The same,” Clint said, not looking at the menu.

The diner was comforting, familiar red vinyl seats and the plump waitress in a pink apron. If Clint would talk anywhere it would be here. Maria sucked at small talk, so she decided to launch straight into the problem. “I’m talking to you as a friend. I have every confidence that you two will be able to work together in the field, but for Natasha to be so public about her personal life?” Maria shook her head in amazement. “Look, tell me how you screwed up and I’ll tell you how to fix it.”

“Why does everyone assume that I’m the one who screwed up?” Clint asked, outraged.

Maria tapped her fingers on the table and waited. Clint mumbled something.

“What was that?” Maria asked, leaning forward.

“I told her she was beautiful.” Clint looked down.

“And?” Maria slapped the table in front of Clint, forcing him to look up.

“And what? That’s it. She kicked me out of the room before I had time to blink.”

“You didn’t do anything stupid like say you loved her, did you?” Maria asked suspiciously

“No! And why do you think I love her? We’re just friends with benefits.” Clint spoke way too fast, not even able to suppress obvious tells as he spoke.

Hill gave him a disappointed look. “I know spywork isn’t your specialty, but you can lie better than that.”

“Does everyone know?” Clint sighed, defeated.  
   
Maria felt like hitting her head against the plastic table. “Yes, Clint. Everyone knows.” Clint shifted uncomfortably. “Why do you think she kicked you out of the room?” Hill asked, leaning forward. Her eyes were intent on his, and the comfy atmosphere of the diner started to feel more like an interrogation room.

“I don’t know,” Clint said, eyes sliding away from Hill.

“Clint. I know you. Laconic charm is not going to work on me. Had you called her beautiful before?” Maria was already putting the limited information she had into a theory.

“Yes. Like fifty times. I don’t understand what happened this time.” Hill waited for more, taking a measured sip of the diner coffee. Clint settled back. He was a sniper, he could play the waiting game.

“What else have you called her?” Maria asked finally, not even attempting to outwait Clint.

“Stuff,” Clint said, clearly unwilling to elaborate. Getting either he or Natasha to talk about their personal life was like pulling teeth, part of the reason that the betting pool about the exact nature of their relationship had gone on for so long.

“Fine,” Maria snapped. Clint was clearly not going to work through this by himself. “I’ll be blunt. Have you ever complimented her on anything other than her appearance and her fighting skills?”

Clint glared at Maria, offended. “Of course!” Then he thought about Maria’s question, eyes widening in realization. “But she knows. She knows that I think she’s smart and funny and all that stuff.”

Maria settled back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Think of the experience she’s had with the men who have called her beautiful. How many of them have considered her a full human being with traits other than her beauty?”

Clint looked down at his hands. “Oh.”

“I’ll pick up the check,” Hill said. Interrogation over, there was a hint of kindness in her tone. She was relieved that she no longer had to get into the messy nitty gritty of her friend’s personal life.


End file.
